Lake Rodney bikini season in the southern hemisphere

As soon as his latest wounds knit, Peregrine intended to go right back to harassing the squatters in Haunted Wood. He wouldn't rest until he drove them away. He knew his mate and the rest of the pack felt similarly. They hadn't come away from their various altercations unscathed but the Alpha remained confident that they would wear down and eventually exterminate the pests next door.

Presently, he roamed toward the caldera's western borders. With much of their concentration on the woods, they had neglected this side of their claim somewhat. Peregrine moved in stops and starts, hiking a leg here and rubbing the scent glands on his feet there. The views were particularly incredible here, what with the colorful forest to the north and the lake due west. He found himself idly wondering why they didn't extend their range further in this direction.

Before he could dwell on that thought much, he spotted a figure moving along the shore. The wolf was far enough away that Peregrine didn't feel threatened, though his black hackles bristled nonetheless. He didn't have much patience these days. He began to trot toward the stranger, picking up her scent en route. She was easy on the eyes eye, yet that didn't soften his approach.

He came to a stop perhaps a dozen feet away, posture rigid but mostly neutral. Peregrine squinted his jade eyes, his tail twitching. He didn't need to speak, for his body language spoke for him: Who are you and what are you doing here?